


That's What They Had Agreed On

by from_scarlet_to_pink



Series: That's What They Had Agreed On [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:39:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/from_scarlet_to_pink/pseuds/from_scarlet_to_pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is in a coma. John has to make a decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's What They Had Agreed On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShezzasCompanion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShezzasCompanion/gifts).



> disclaimer: none of these characters are originally mine. this particular variation of Holmes and Watson is thanks to Gatiss, Moffat, and the BBC.

Three months. That’s what they had agreed on.

Sherlock and John knew, that in their line of work, this would always be a possibility and had discussed this topic extensively.  
Three months. If either of them was kept on life support and unlikely to wake up, three months was their chosen limit. 

It all started with a case - what else would one suspect. Chasing a suspect down the street and over rooftops was nothing new for the consulting detective and his blogger, up until the moment the man turned and attacked Sherlock. John wasn’t far behind but it was still far enough to not to be able to help and so he watched as Sherlock was pushed off the fire escape, memories of Barts and rooftops flooding his brain. 

Sherlock had been in a coma for three months and 18 days. The neurologists all agreed that he was more than unlikely to regain consciousness. Even though Mycroft had gotten the best people available to operate on his brother, the swelling in Sherlock’s brain had simply been too severe.

Still, John refused to give up on Sherlock, agreements be damned. He had done so once before and the debacle with Mary was still fresh on his mind, especially now, after once again spending months sitting at Sherlock’s bedside in hospital. No, John would never again doubt Sherlock Holmes and if there was one man on earth, who could not only cheat death once, or even twice, but three times, it would be his best friend. His lover. His Sherlock.

So these 18 days were simply his way of giving Sherlock a chance to fulfill their promise to always come back to each other. 

But now, it was time to let go. There had been no change in Sherlock’s condition. Not for the better, at least. Some of his organs were starting to fail and John wouldn’t be able to watch as his lover slowly deteriorated in front of him. Better to end it quickly. It was time. 

Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, and Molly all came to say their goodbyes. Sherlock’s parents and Mycroft had come in most days and after John had told him about his decision, he left the family alone to do the same. 

In the end it was only John in Sherlock’s room. He had yelled at the staff to leave him alone and they actually did as he asked. Mycroft’s influence was a good thing, sometimes. 

He held Sherlocks hand and whispered in his ear. Words of love, words of understanding. A promise to see each other again soon. 

With his hands tight around Sherlock’s left, his face buried in his arms, he listened to Sherlock’s heart stop. 

 

 

\-----------

 

 

Sherlock had been trapped in his mind palace for the longest time. He knew he had been in an accident, could even remember something about rooftops and fire escapes, but it wasn’t clear. 

His mind palace was a mess, ceilings caved in, walls where they shouldn’t be, doors that led to nowhere. 

So Sherlock started to repair the damages, hoping to find his way out. He moved the debris, reconstructed staircases, rearranged corridors to make them make sense once again. It was a long and slow process but it had to be done. Without knowing his way around his mind palace, he wouldn’t be able to find the way out. And he had to get out. John was waiting. 

Slowly, so very slowly, things were taking the shape they were supposed to have. Sherlock found his bunker and finally had a way to orient himself around this mess. Moriarty was no longer inside, but that could wait for another day. 

Sherlock didn’t know how much time had passed. It could have been days, it could have been weeks. 

The walls around him started to crumble - not simply undoing his repairs but to completely vanish. 

‘Three months’ Sherlock murmured to himself, watching his mind palace, and himself with it, disappear.


End file.
